Kaisaros: The Roman Pharaoh

Chapter Five: Son Of Ra

Figuring we'd be staying in the palace for quite some time, Antony mainly rests in his old room. I order servants to bring him food every so often.
"You really do care," Antony teases in bed when I check on him. He plucks a grape from the bowl of fruit at his side and eats it.
"Don't get used to it," I respond evenly. I hear him snort from halfway across the room from the doorway.

"Are you ever going to take that dreadful uniform off?" He asks, motioning to the sandy and dirty Imperator outfit I still wear despite it being a week since the Battle of Alexandria ended.
"What's wrong with it? The heat is nearly driving me mad," I respond.
"You looked better with the Pontifex Maximus robe on," he sighs, stretching a little under the mess of light blankets.

He slept shirtless, like every other night. Even so, I can see the mess of brightly colored clothing hanging in his closet, each more eye catching than the last. "Even with the makeup on?" I ask, smiling ever so slightly.
"How I've missed you teasing me," he responds instead, but I can tell he wants to answer yes.
He never took his eyes off of me even when I walked off the stage.
****
Even sitting on the Egyptian throne feels strange to me. The cushion under me is soft, easing some strain on my sore body. By Eros' request, I bathed and dressed the part with the kohl and other finery.

Most of the golden bracelets and rings on my arms and fingers had been taken out from the royal treasury. Although wearing nothing but patterned cloth on my waist and jewelry will take some getting used to.
Even with little clothing on, I still feel hot, but dare not show it bothering me.

Despite all of this, I had ordered Antony to come to the throne room alone, save for the two guards stationed at the double doors. Both men open it when Antony arrives, still wincing somewhat as he walks.
I watch him pause to look at me, clearly flustered.
"You wanted to see me?" He clears his throat, avoiding my gaze.

"On your knees," I order, easily slipping into the part of Pharaoh. Clearly blushing, Antony kneels down, removing the hood of his cloak. "If I ever summon you into the throne room when other people are present, you will address me using the proper terms, do you understand?" I ask.

"I..." he stammers, clearly caught off guard by all of this. I raise an eyebrow, remaining silent. "Of course, My King," he huffs, obviously not used to using such a title. "Good. Get up, there is a reason I summoned you here," I respond, my tone softer.
"And what would that be?" He asks, sarcasm in his tone since we are alone.

"To discuss your situation going forward. Everyone besides me and my troops think you have died or been exiled. I intend to keep it that way. You've been punished enough, Antonius. By order of your Pharaoh, and because I worry for your safety, I want you to remain here in the palace. I will make sure people take care of you," I say, leaning forward on the throne.

"Are you implying I should retire and merely waltz around the palace for the rest of my days? I can still fight," he argues. My eyebrows raise in surprise. "You can hardly stand without flinching, let alone fight," I observe.
Clearly annoyed, he stands up abruptly and gasps, shuddering in pain as he grasps his side.

"So what is your grand plan? Keep me here as your bed warmer?" He mocks, but avoids my gaze altogether. I've always assumed Antonius enjoyed subtle humiliation, but this all but confirms it. "Is that what you want?" I ask back, unable to suppress a smile. He meets my gaze now, conflicted but not able to give a clear answer.

Glancing back to make sure the doors are still securely closed, I beckon Antony to come closer. He does so, walking up the steps leading to the throne as I stand. "How is the wound?" I ask, slipping away from the Pharaoh persona. "Healing still," he grunts, having not been this close since we were alone in the medical tent.

Even with the soled sandals on, he still stands taller than me. I reach up and touch his face, his beard growing in more. He closes his eyes at my touch, relaxing. "Get some more rest," I whisper, pecking his lips, "and see me in my room tonight."